


I wanna be the one to walk in the sun

by amorremanet



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Challenge Response, Community: homebrewbingo, Community: kink_bingo, Dom/sub, F/F, Face Slapping, Ficlet, Kink Without Plot, Light Masochism, Light Sadism, Painplay, Safewords: A Sadism/Masochism Ficathon, Slapping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-14
Updated: 2012-08-14
Packaged: 2017-11-12 03:44:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/486321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amorremanet/pseuds/amorremanet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>They've talked about this and about how Erica wants it. Ever since Allison found the old rune-work in her family's notes. But now that they're here, it's so much more than Erica bargained for.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	I wanna be the one to walk in the sun

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sister_wife](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=sister_wife).



> Prompts used herein are: "smacking/slapping" for kink_bingo; "intimacy" for homebrewbingo; and "girls just wanna have fun" for [this prompt](http://sister-wife.livejournal.com/18051.html?thread=324739#t324739).

Erica shivers, despite herself. She licks her lips, stares up into the dark eyes that she knows so well. And, fully naked, she keeps her hands folded behind her back, just like she was told, but still lets two words slip out: "Allison… please…"

They've talked about this and about how Erica wants it. Ever since Allison found the old rune-work in her family's notes. But now that they're here, it's so much more than Erica bargained for—her stomach keeps tying itself into anxious knots and she can't stop idly knocking her knees against each other—maybe she could've read over everything more attentively.

Erica's whole body aches just with the sensation of Allison's fingers teasing down her neck and over her collar, down her clavicle and the little bit of chest above her breasts. She trembles as Allison's nails caress her, dig into her skin—they don't even go in that far. Pain flashes, briefly—all white hot and shivering, for all it disappears before Erica can enjoy it.

She glances down at her chest and furrows her brow. Allison's scratch only left behind red skin—she barely has to drag her nails down Erica's shoulder to get a gasp out of her—but everything's so much sharper with the collar on. Which is so much better and so much worse.

On the surface, it's a simple thing: black leather with a rabbit fur buffer lining the inside, tight on the lowest part of Erica's neck. It fastens with a faux-silver buckle, which is currently lost in Erica's untamed hair. It has a little tag hanging down, sliding around against Erica's skin, with her name carved in the metal, then painted over in black. And because it's one of two that they have, Allison's added something new to it. She's carved sigils into the strap—old runes that are supposed to bind a werewolf in their human form. Keep them from transforming, for all they'll still have their heightened sensese. Make it so they feel the pain as much as a human would and heal themself so much slower than normal.

Allegedly, Erica's supposed to feel the full extent of the healing process, but she hasn't yet. The threat's still enough to keep her eyes locked on Allison—at least until Allison moves like she'll hit her. Erica flinches as soon as Allison raises her hand—then comes the pause—Allison's hand never makes contact, she drops her arm like deadweight—Erica's breath comes faster, shallower, just from wondering what Allison might be getting ready—and still, nothing happens.

Erica takes a deep breath. Sighs. Silently counts to ten and starts to raise her head, creaks her eyes open again— _crack!_ Allison's smack snaps through the silence, cutting the air in half, as soon as Erica looks up at her.

And— _crack!_ Another one follows it, on the same cheek—Erica winces, huffs, but tries to keep quiet. It always eggs Allison on, when she holds back on her reactions—just like it gets Erica snarling when Allison's hand cups her face in a legitimate caress. All gentle and soft, ghosting her thumb over the apple of Erica's cheek, over the place Allison struck her.

She trails over that spot once, all the way, back and forth—then she moves to repeat this, presses harder and clenches her fingers around Erica's jaw as though she could actually break Erica's bones like this. She moves her thumb over the spot in slow, hard, deliberate motions, glaring at Erica, narrowing her eyes and watching, waiting—and when Erica finally flinches, finally whines, Allison stops. Waches Erica with no expression on her face, sighs through all of her meditative breathing.

She digs her thumb into this spot like putting out a cigarette—beats it into Erica's cheek and rubs with focus and intent, like she _wants_ to break Erica's bones—rubs until Erica can feel her chafing skin get all hot and red. Then lets her hand drop again and, in a fluid motion, rears back and punches Erica—right there, with all the force she can throw behind it.

The tag on her collar bounces as Erica clatters to the floor, certain that Allison managed to break her cheekbone, and before she can react, Allison kicks her. Smacks her heavy boots into Erica's stomach. Erica gasps. Groans and doubles over, curls in around herself but can't stay that way long—she tries to get a deep breath, but Allison kicks her again, and bends over to snake her fingers under the collar.

She jerks Erica up. Hauls her to her knees and yanks on the collar again. Drags Erica flush against her, so her face clashes into Allison's belt buckle. Erica yelps, feeling her skin start crackling and burning, feeling the design from the Argent family crest press into her flesh—Allison _would_ have a pure silver belt buckle and wear it for a scene like this one—but Erica makes no attempts to move away. She just digs her cheek into the design that much harder, even before Allison thwaps her on the back of the head, palm splayed and rigid and intent on making Erica feel everything.

And she does feel everything. Breath ragged, she twists her fingers up in Allison's hip pocket, tries to drag Allison closer and push against the belt buckle harder still—but Allison hits her again. Knots her fingers up in Erica's hair and yanks her back. Smirks down at her and hisses, "You want it so badly, Puppy? Well, what've you done for me, lately? I don't think you've behaved yourself enough to get in my pants yet…"

A sigh. Her free hand falls to Erica's neck and, this time, she doesn't scratch—she _claws_. Even without having the genuine article, she digs her fingers in, and drags them down to the collar, and leaves thin trails of blood behind. Erica shudders, and singsongs back that she doesn't care—that Allison can't tell her what to do—and she smiles, keeps her head up and her eyes open as Allison rears back to smack her cheek again.


End file.
